The Corset Case
by epimeral
Summary: Getting lost or loosing someone in Balfonheim is easy. Embarrassing Balthier? Not so much. Or so he claims… Oneshot. Balthier/Vaan, mild slash.


**Title: **The Corset Case**  
Author: **faintlyheliophobic**  
Summary: **Getting lost in Balfonheim is easy. Embarrassing Balthier? Not so much. Or so he claims…**  
Warnings: **Fetish fashion? Lol, idk. Mild cussing and hints of slash. Un-beta'd.

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Disclaimer: **Final Fantasy XII and its characters and locations belong to Square Enix.

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A/N:** You know those men in corsets that seem to run around everywhere in Rabanastre and Balfonheim? Yeah, I paid a little too much attention to those. And – having no life – this little plotbunny reared its ugly head and coerced me into writing. I tried to keep the characters as in character as possible, but I might've taken some artistic freedom... Enjoy!

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**The Corset Case****  
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(or 'A short lesson in embarrassing sky-pirates')

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The port at Balfonheim was crowded, and Balthier found it hard to keep track of anyone but Fran, what with her rather distinct ears - and even so, he nearly lost her once when another Viera passed. At least she was keeping track of Penelo. Who knew what might befall her in a city such as this?

Ahead, he caught a glimpse of the resident princess and her loyal dog, apparently deeply engrossed in conversation. And... that left only Vaan missing. He cursed; couldn't it have been someone more reasonable? Once again, in a city like this... cursed pirates. And as the leading man, or rather, the only one who'd noticed, it would have to be his job to find the brat. Naturally.

He leapt up on a few convenient crates, ignoring the protests of the youth watching over them, and scanned the crowd. Just how many blond Dalmascans could there be here? The place was much closer to Archadia than anything else, and Archadians were known for their darker complexion. Of course, once again, _pirates_: they had a penchant for being all over the place. Much like the cursed boy...

When he got his hands on him, he might have to dump a Pirate's Codex on him - in which one rule would, surely, be to never leave one's crew, since it might get lost. Or one might get lost. Either way, really, as long as it kept him put.

After another few frustrated minutes, he finally caught sight of what might've been Vaan's head, slinking into an alley. He jumped down from the crates, quickly skirting through the throng of bodies - thrice-damned be his luck if he lost him again!

The alley was refreshingly cool, shaded as it was; a relief to the eyes after squinting in the stark sunlight of Sacchio Lane. Balthier scanned the make-shift stalls lining the street, and found Vaan at one of the furthest. Strolling towards it, he noted that the boy was waving his hands wildly, his voice raised as if arguing with the shop-keep.

He could only hope that it was nothing too troublesome.

**---**

"I'm telling you, though; they make them better back in Lowtown!" Vaan exclaimed, fisting his hair in frustration. "Look, this crap isn't worth more than Chimera droppings. Your pricing is ridiculous!"

As the seller started to protest, Vaan became aware of someone heading up to him. His days of thieving had honed that skill for survival, and it still paid off from time to time. Turning slightly, he saw Balthier, who looked a fuming menace. He winced; what on earth could have rubbed such a laid back man the wrong way? Had he been slapped by a previous conquest, maybe? No, he was too good a smooth talker for that... Vaan became suddenly very aware of the man's slight height advantage, as he towered above him.

"What?" he asked, defensively. And then added, just as a precaution, "I didn't do anything!"

"You," Balthier ground out, "Are a complete IDIOT. What, in all of Ivalice, had you thinking that it'd be a good idea to wander off on one's own in a pirate town?"

Frowning, he cast a quick glance at the seller. The man looked torn between running for his life, and fawning over the notorious sky pirate. Disgusted, he turned back again. "I can handle it."

"You and the princess seem to share that sentient," said Balthier, snorting. "Where there is faith, there is survival. The mere notion is preposterous at best."

"And what would you know about it? You grew up as a pampered prince, didn't you? No matter how you try to deny it, you haven't lived through the hell me and Reks did!" Vaan ground out, very aware of his armguards' creaks as his nails dug into his palms. "What do you know how powerful belief is? If we hadn't had that, then we wouldn't've had _anything_ to... to live for, and then…"

The silence was heavy, and very uncomfortable. Balthier ran a frustrated hand through his hair, and looked at Vaan not looking at him. Heavens forbid if he'd actually hurt the boys _feelings_. Penelo would have his head, for sure. She was vicious, beneath than deceptively sweet, innocent exterior.

Vaan growled, and turned back to the shopkeeper. The man actually flinched under his glare, so either Vaan was really mad, or he was more cowardly than he'd thought.

"So," the boy ground out. "Are you lowering the price, or do I have to go somewhere else?"

The shopkeeper stuttered pathetically before taking a calming, deep breath. "I'm sorry, I can't. I've gotta make a livin' outta these, and I'm sure there'll be someone in this 'ere town willin' to pay. Er... yeah. So, no."

"What... exactly is it that you are purchasing, Vaan?" asked Balthier, cautiously.

His answer was a frustrated huff, and then the boy tore something out of the poor shopkeeper's arms and held it up. "One of these."

Oh... that was... Balthier felt a very prominent heating of his cheeks, and prayed it didn't show under his tan. But really, this was... of course, the boy had grown up in Lowtown, and would obviously be a little less delicate, and more familiar with the more rowdy aspects of life, but this was... honestly, a corset?

Balthier found himself at a loss. How to explain the implications of such a piece of... clothing?

"Vaan, I'm not certain if you are aware of..." he started.

The boy seemed less than impressed. He was good at that, he noted. "I _know _what a corset is. I'm not, you know, _stupid_ or anything."

"No, that's not what I meant. I, er... rather, the _implications_ of... of wearing a... corset."

Vaan stared at him. Balthier peered back at him, still fighting that infernal blush, and realised that yes, the boy had noticed by now, and... Was that a smirk?

Before he had even blinked, the boy was bent almost double in peals of laughter. Balthier sniffed sharply. Here he was, trying to protect the boy from the evils of society, and the brat had the audacity to _laugh_ at him? He should leave him to it, really - bide his time until the boy came stumbling back to wherever they were residing, horrified and violated, and then he'd get his own share of righteous... But no, he'd left his position as a Judge for a reason, and he was supposed to be mature enough to at least take some laughter on his own behalf. So he waited it out.

It took a while. And a fair amount of patience.

Finally, Vaan seemed to calm down, but there was a conspicuous twitching at his lips.

"If you're quite finished?" drawled Balthier.

"Sorry." Oh, the insincerity! "Sorry, but that's got to be the funniest thing I've heard in a long time. I mean, seriously Balthier? A corset? You can't say that it's offended your delicate sensibilities, right? I mean, coming from Ashe, okay, but Balthier, you're a Sky Pirate, for the love of... Wait, you're serious?"

"I dare say I am, and that Lady Ashe's reaction would have been more severe." Vaan snorted, but he ignored it. "Wearing a corset, one can come off as quite... ah, _whorish_, if you will."

That set him off again. Balthier was not amused, and told him as much, but it only seemed to make his laughter more intense. It didn't take long before he snapped. "WHAT is so _funny_?!"

Wiping tears from his eyes, the boy collected himself somewhat. He was still chuckling, though.

"You do realise that you're being absolutely ridiculous, right?"

"No, frankly, I do not," he snapped, at the very end of his patience. There might be some bruised dignity there as well, not that he'd admit it.

"Balthier..." he said, and was clearly bemused. "I don't know how to put this, but... are you completely blind?"

He didn't dignify that with a response.

"Look, have you seen what Fran is wearing? Your partner is strutting around in some sort of leather lingerie, and-"

"Fran doesn't-"

"Oh, whatever. Anyway, she's prancing around half naked; and then there's Ashe with her open top thing, not to mention that piece of fabric she uses as a skirt. And then there's Basch, with his blatant display of manly abs and shit - and you complain about a _corset_?"

Vaan looked completely flabbergasted. Well, when you put it like that... he supposed it might look a bit silly, yes. But still... actually, no, he was being irrational. That didn't have to mean he had to admit to it, though. He cleared his throat, awkwardly, trying (and failing) to not see the victorious smirk on the brat's face.

"I any case, that's not what I came for," he muttered. "We've been invited for dinner at Reddas' Manse after fetching whatever supplies we needed. I suspect we've wasted enough time here, so we should head there. Unless there's anything you...?"

"Oh, no, I'm all done here. Lead the way, oh sensitive one!"

"You're never going to let me live that down, are you?" Balthier asked, wearily. The broad grin he got was answer enough to warrant a dejected sigh.

Clenching his teeth, he headed for the manse, keeping an eye on the brat lest he get lost again. Ignoring the snickers was hard, but hopefully, the boy would have mellowed a bit come the morrow. Would it really be so much to ask for reprieve?

In retrospect, he shouldn't even have entertained the notion. There was something to be said about tempting the fates unnecessarily.

_Don't._

_**---**_

Balthier had slept horribly during the night; twisting and turning for seemingly no reason at all. He'd felt strangely uneasy, and he couldn't for the life of him figure out why. Maybe that should have clued him in on what was to come, but he was _tired,_ damn it. The bed had been so wonderfully soft and inviting, he'd been in a good mood from an excellent meal, and the faint buzz of alcohol should by all rights have sent him to sleep as soon as he hit the sheets.

It had not, and as a result he felt gritty and miserable. His shirt was depressingly rumpled, and his leather pants felt somehow clammy in a way they usually never did. To top it all, he'd forgotten to remove his earrings, and now his nibs were sore and complaining. All in all, a truly shitty start to the day.

So he wallowed in gloom, and with his general air of a particularly spiteful storm cloud, the others left him well alone in the company of only his teacup. With a grunt, he briefly released it from his clutches to pull the throw around his shoulders tighter.

Suddenly, there was a warm weight draped across his back, and hot breath against the shell of his ear.

"Hello, Balthier..." purred what had to be Vaan, and Balthier felt like shooting himself. Or better yet, the brat. Why was he being so affectionate this morning, anyway?

"Vaan," he ground out, and snatched his teacup back up again. If worse came to worse, he could always tip it over his shoulder. That ought to teach him – there was nothing like scalding water to deter people from strange behaviour too early in the morning... He took a sip. Bad, _bad_ idea.

"You look like shit. Can I… help you out?"

That, coupled with the warmth against his back and the memories of The Alley Incident, had him spurting hot tea over the expensive rug. Everyone's eyes were instantly on them, and widened not too soon after. Perhaps their shock was justified, what with Vaan draping himself all over him like a wanton – Balthier twitched and vehemently stopped _that_ train of thought. He put down the cup with forced gentleness, and twisted away from the boy and rose to his feet.

"Vaan, if you know what's best for you, I'd suggest you leave me the-" His voice broke and faltered rather suddenly as he took what the boy was wearing.

Vaan - with a shit-eating, face-splitting grin - had rid himself of his usual strap-on armour in favour of just his loose pants and bare feet. And then there was the pièce de résistance: a tight, beautifully carved and sewn black leather corset that ended just beneath his young, lean pectorals.

Balthier wheezed, gaped, and then hefted the nearest large object capable of causing permanent bodily harm and leapt at the little shit with an angry roar.

Vaan just laughed, and ran for his life.

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_**Fin.**_

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A/N: Reviews are, of course, appreciated. :)  
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